


Idyll and Woe

by keraunoscopia



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 03:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13449672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keraunoscopia/pseuds/keraunoscopia
Summary: Rafael had no idea what was going on. Sonny had come home from the precinct three days ago and hadn’t said a word since. It hadn’t been a cause for concern at first. Rafael knew from experience, from history, that Sonny sometimes needed time to process things, that silence wasn’t calculated manipulation, or the silent treatment, just that he needed to get his thoughts sorted before he was ready to talk.It had never lasted more than the night.





	Idyll and Woe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChameleonCircuit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChameleonCircuit/gifts), [barbaesparza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbaesparza/gifts).



> Indulgent angst. Thank you to astronaut_milky for letting me know this wasn't as terrible as I thought. What would I do with out you? <3

The day had faded to a sort of milky grey, sun settling low on the horizon casting long shadows on the pavement as Rafael Barba made his way home from work. It was early autumn, and the first few of dead leaves tumbled across the pavement in front of him as he approached the parkside apartment building. 

He had never been one to race home. 

Rafael had learned a long time ago that home was nothing more than a place to sleep, had learned the value, and the power in dedicating himself to work. In college, and then law school he slept in the library more nights than not, never left campus before the sun set. It was a trait that had carried over to his professional career, late nights in the office, power naps on his office couch. 

It had changed a little, when he had someone to come home to, but then given their schedules, the apartment was still usually empty when he finally left 1 Hogan Place. But today was different, today he knew that the apartment wouldn’t be empty. 

He nodded to the doorman who greeted him genially, and quickened his step to reach the elevator before the doors closed. Twelve floors up, and he craned his neck slightly, watching the numbers tick up on the screen as they ascended. He stepped off alone, the other passengers continuing upwards, and he reached for the keys in his bag. He unlocked the door, cringing at the shrill creak as he pushed it open into the dark apartment. 

Keys into the bowl, jacket on the hook, shoes on the stand, a practiced routine he didn’t stumble even in the low light, only the fading gold glow of the sunset streaming through windows desperately in need of dusting. He paused as his eyes caught the antique armchair by the window, pulled just a little out of place, a tuft of silver wheat hair barely visible over the high back. 

“Sonny, I’m home,” his voice was soft, nearly whispered into the silence of the apartment, but it still felt a little too loud. No reaction. Rafael wasn’t sure what he had expected, but the silence still panged in the pit of his stomach. Sonny had been sitting in the same place when he had left that morning, eyes trained out the window, watching the sky, or the street, Rafael couldn’t tell which. 

He took a few uncertain steps forward, socks padding softly across the waxed hardwood floors as he crossed the room. Rafael reached out, his heavy hand settling on Sonny’s shoulder as he drank in the sight of him. Still in the sweatpants and tee shirt he’d been wearing the night before, hair mussed and ungelled, stray bits falling over his forehead. His face was scruffy, a few days unshaven, Rafael couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Sonny looking so unkempt. 

Sonny pulled his gaze from the window, eyes such a faded grey in the low light, and looked up at Rafael, letting a soft smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Sonny reached for Rafael’s hips, tugging him gently, and Rafael settled on his lap, arms curling around Sonny’s shoulders as he tucked his face into the crook of Sonny’s neck. 

Rafael had no idea what was going on. Sonny had come home from the precinct three days ago and hadn’t said a word since. It hadn’t been a cause for concern at first. Rafael knew from experience, from history, that Sonny sometimes needed time to process things, that silence wasn’t calculated manipulation, or the silent treatment, just that he needed to get his thoughts sorted before he was ready to talk. 

It had never lasted more than the night. 

Rafael had called Liv the day before, asking what had happened, if Sonny had been involved in something he didn’t want to talk about, but she didn’t seem to have any insight, only that Sonny had found a dead victim, a child. Not a common occurrence, but not the first time, either. 

“I missed you,” Rafael murmured into the heat of Sonny’s skin, not expecting a reply. Arms just tightened around him, a hitch of unsteady breath. “Did you eat today?” He pulled away slightly, enough to read Sonny’s face, the small shake of his head. “I’ll make you something,” he added more for clarity’s sake than anything, as he pulled away to the kitchen, wide open and unfamiliar territory. 

Sonny was the chef between the two of them, the kitchen his domain for breakfast and dinner, lunches when they were home to eat them. Rafael had survived on his own long enough, could pull together something edible, but had no problem acquiescing to let Sonny shine. 

He pulled the fridge door open, eyes scanning the sparse contents of the fridge and sighed, reaching for the eggs and milk. It had been a while since they’d had pancakes for dinner, but it usually could pull a smile out of the sour detective. 

* * * 

Rafael could feel the comfortable warmth of sleep fading into periphery, but his eyes stayed closed as he reached out, searching for Sonny to pull closer, nuzzle into his side and let sleep take him again, but his hands only found cool sheets, and uncomfortable vacancy. With a sigh, he opened his eyes, adjusting to the flaxen light filtering in through slotted blinds. The bed was empty. He forced himself up to sitting, peering over his shoulder at the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand, 6:23 AM. 

Sonny didn’t have to work, would have woken him up if he’d been called in. Rafael frowned. It wasn’t like him to get up early, wasn’t like him to get out of bed before Rafael woke when they had the day off together. Sunday mornings were usually languid affection, soft kisses, drifting in and out of sleep far longer than they needed to. 

He stood up, drawing a blanket around his shoulders and stepped out of the bedroom, eyes scanning the room. His gaze fell to the window, the same chair, and he sighed audibly. He was there again, staring out the window. Four days, he whispered to himself, four days he’d gone without hearing Sonny’s voice, four days spent by that window drowning in something that Rafael couldn’t understand. 

Rafael walked slowly across the room, eyes squinting in the sunlight bathing the room in soft yellow hues. “What do you need?” He asked with a frown, settling down on aching knees next to the arm of the chair, looking up at Sonny with concern. Sonny turned his head, face blank, unreadable. “I don’t know how to help you, Sonny,” Rafael admitted softly, his voice cracking slightly. 

Sonny just reached out a hand, settling in atop Rafael’s, squeezing gently. He didn’t know what to say, or couldn’t, Rafael wasn’t sure. 

“You’ve got the next few days off,” Rafael spoke slowly, “I’ll take off Monday and Tuesday too, let’s go up to East Otto, okay?” 

Sonny’s lips parted slightly, like maybe he was finally going to break the vow of silence that had settled around him four days ago, but he just nodded slowly instead. 

* * *

Rafael settled into the driver’s seat, soft black leather of the steering wheel unfamiliar in his hands. He paused for a moment, adjusting the seat, and the mirrors as Sonny got comfortable in the passenger seat, kicking his shoes off, blanket pulled across his lap. It was Rafael’s car, sleek black Audi he’d purchased several years back, though it sat in storage more often than not, and when he did pull it out of the garage, Sonny was usually the one to drive, more comfortable behind the wheel. 

But Rafael knew where he was going, and Sonny was so deep in thought Rafael wasn’t sure he trusted him in control of a thousand pound vehicle. It had taken a couple hours to get ready, to shower and pack the car with the necessities, they’d pick up groceries closer to town. 

He sighed as they began the fight against Manhattan morning traffic. East Otto was clear across the state, eight hours on a good day, and though Rafael didn’t particularly care for driving most days, he knew that they needed this. There was always a sort of startling clarity that came with long drives, nothing but scenery and thoughts to keep company. 

They broke free of city limits into an open stretch of road and Rafael let himself turn to look at Sonny. He was relaxed into the seat, long legs stretched out but still covered by the blanket, his head turned to look out his window, the turning trees, green to mottled red and orange. 

Rafael turned back to the road ahead, but slid his his hand into Sonny’s entwining their fingers. “You know I’d never try to force you to say anything, Sonny,” he started softly, swallowing the lump in his throat. “But I’m here, I’m always going to be here.” 

He was a powerful man, he had money, had a reputation that was worth something, had spent years cultivating relationships with powerful people. The moment he opened his mouth, he had control of a courtroom. Now the feeling of powerlessness was overwhelming. 

Sonny just squeezed his hand again, head still turned to watch the trees fade way to open expanses of field, mossy green and brown splattered across his view. Rafael couldn’t look away from the road for long enough to confirm, but he could have sworn he saw the glistening stain of tears on the detective’s cheek. 

Three hours in, Rafael finally pulled into a gas station, to fill up the tank, and grab a shitty cup of coffee that tasted more like battery acid than anything. Sonny got up wordlessly, pulling his shoes back on as he hung his legs out of the side of the car before he disappeared into the little shop.

Bathroom, Rafael assumed as he settled back in front of the steering wheel, twisting to crack his back that was throbbing uncomfortably already. He reached for the aux cord, plugging it into his phone with careful precision. Three hours of silence had been weighing on him, three hours of nothing to distract him from the fact that he was helpless, that Sonny was struggling, in some sort of pain that Rafael couldn’t do anything about. 

The car door opened, and Sonny dropped into the seat before Rafael even realized he had returned. 

“You ready to go?” Rafael asked, turning to look at him as he pulled the car door shut, toeing off his shoes again. Sonny didn’t respond, just rifled through a plastic bag of things he had apparently purchased from the shop. Rafael kept his mouth shut, watching nimble fingers tear open a box, and unscrew a cap, piercing the seal with his finger. 

Wordlessly, Sonny held out a bottle of water, and a few white pills, aspirin. Rafael’s expression softened immediately, accepting the offering for what it was, an acknowledgment, appreciation, love. Sonny wasn’t ready to talk yet, but he was trying. It was enough for Rafael. 

They set out on the road again, and Rafael cringed as Sonny rolled down the window. It was a warm day, for autumn, but it still set a cold chill into his bones. If it had been any other day, any other context, he would have demanded Sonny roll the window up. Maybe the fresh air, out of the city smog, would help clear his head. 

Rafael settled again, one hand fixed to the steering wheel lazily, elbow resting against the window. They’d done the drive to East Otto with some degree of regularity since they had started dating, three years ago. It was Sonny’s family summer home, a sprawling farm of 200 acres, where his grandparents had lived when they were alive, where Sonny had spent his summers. 

It was mostly unused now, always vacant in the fall and winter when Rafael preferred to go, away from the prying eyes of Sonny’s plethora of cousins and aunts and uncles. Rafael had never dreamed he’d be the country home type, had always preferred the finer things in life, yachts, high rise apartments, fine suits. But there was something so comforting, so sincere about the hundred year old farmhouse. He hoped the familiarity, the hominess that seeped from the bones of the house would help Sonny some. 

The music changed suddenly, startling Rafael from his thoughts, and he looked over to Sonny, who had kicked up his feet on the dashboard, Rafael’s phone in his hand as he browsed the music library, wind still whipping at his silver wheat curls. Sonny glanced over at him, catching Rafael’s eye with a soft smile, and Rafael could feel the warmth of relief blooming in his chest. 

By the time they stopped for groceries and pulled up the long winding drive to the farm house, it was nearly six, and the sun was starting it’s descent below the horizon, barely visible through the thick of trees beyond the house. They collected the groceries and their suitcases, hauling everything up on to the porch in one go. 

The house was just as Rafael remembered, though a layer of dust had settled over every visible surface, the furniture all covered in white sheets for that very reason. “Do you mind bringing the suitcases upstairs, I’ll unpack the groceries?” He asked, looking up from the bags. Sonny nodded, disappearing up the stairs to the bedrooms. 

Rafael sighed, looking around the place before taking the bags to the kitchen. It was his favorite part of the house, clearly built for a time when the kitchen was the hearth of the home, the huge farmhouse table off to his right, the huge stone fireplace on the opposite wall. Sonny had known this place in its prime, had spent summers canning tomato sauce, picking peas and beans in the gardens back when they actually produced vegetables, had people to take care of them. The house was remnants now, a shadow of something that had been great. 

Like Sonny, for the past few days, his stomach churned at the thought. Pushing it aside he unpacked the groceries, just the staples, eggs, bread, milk, cheese. The rest of the pantry was always stocked, the benefit of sharing space with a large Italian family. 

His gaze lingered on the fridge, the stainless steel barely peeking through the layers of old photographs of the family. He picked out Sonny with ease, the dimples hadn’t been a family trait on this side apparently, and stuck out like a sore thumb. Rafael smiled at one, gangly, knobby kneed Sonny with his arm slung around a younger girl, Bella no doubt, and the biggest shit eating grin on his face, the very house Rafael was standing in framed the photo’s backdrop. 

Sonny’s face peeked around the corner into the kitchen, startling Rafael who hadn’t heard him approach. It was a Carisi secret, navigating the house without hitting any of the creaky floorboards, and he hadn’t been initiated quite yet. 

“Just finished up,” Rafael closed the fridge door and looked over at him again. “Do you want to go for a walk?” 

There wasn’t much to do at the farmhouse, but that was part of its appeal, too far from civilization for cell service, it demanded a slower sort of existence, harkening back to a time that barely seemed to exist anymore. But the weather was still relatively nice, and the sun hadn’t quite set yet. Taking walks around the property were one of Rafael’s favorite things to do, Sonny’s too. 

The detective nodded, and Rafael realized he already had their jackets in hand, holding Rafael’s out to him. 

* * *

The sun had all but set, only the last bit of dusky grey sky offering up light enough to see. Rafael wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking, the farmhouse had faded away behind them, and he pressed a little closer to Sonny’s side, their hands still entwined. The creek was babbling beside them, higher than he remembered it being, probably from the rain they’d been getting over the past few weeks. 

A gust of wind blew through Rafael’s ungelled hair, and he shivered. Without the warmth of the sun, the precarious temperature had tipped just below what he’d consider comfortable, but he didn’t want to cut the walk short either way. 

His eyes widened slightly as they veered off course, just a bit, and it took Rafael a minute to realize they were heading for the swings, old rope and planks tied to a particularly thick set of trees. Sonny let go of Rafael’s hand, and settled himself onto one, testing it for a second before letting his feet leave the ground. 

Rafael followed suit. If Sonny wanted to sit in the dark on cold swings, he could do that. How could he dream of denying the man anything? He wrapped his hands around the coarse rope, toes of his shoes dragging in the dirt as he rocked back and forth slowly. 

“It was a little girl,” Rafael’s gaze snapped up, the first whispers of Sonny’s hoarse voice was as close to an angelic hymn as he could have imagined. 

Rafael pursed his lips, biting back the urge to push him on. 

“She was only three, you know? Three years old and she was sexually assaulted, beaten by her father. I-” he choked up, and Rafael could see the tears welling in Sonny’s grey blue eyes, traced one pearlescent bead down his cheek. “She wasn’t dead when I found her, you know? She was there, just barely, I could feel her breathing, but she was struggling, these really shallow breaths, and Amanda called it in, and they tell you, you know? They tell you that you’re not supposed to touch a person in distress until the paramedics arrive in case there’s a neck injury but I couldn’t help it, she was so fucking small-”

 

His words were cut off by a heaving sob, whole body trembling, and Rafael stood, sinking to his knees in front of Sonny, hands on either side of his knees as the detective bowed his head, eyes fluttering shut, dew drop tears stuck to long lashes. 

“She was gonna die, there was no way she was going to make it ‘till the paramedics arrived, so I just kind of held her, and I could feel her go, Raf, I thought that was just a thing people said, but one second she was there and the next she was gone, just limp in my arms. What’s the point of this job? What’s the point if we get there, and we’ve got a victim alive, and I still can’t save her?” He opened his eyes, looking down to forest green, like he was searching for the answer in Rafael’s eyes. 

“You can’t save them all, Sonny,” Rafael whispered softly, pressing his lips to Sonny’s knee, thumbs stroking the fabric of his pants softly, “but we can make sure he can never do it to another little girl. And maybe, maybe you can save the next one.” 

Sonny lifted his hand slowly, cupping Rafael’s cheek, fingertips grazing his skin slowly, “thank you,” he whispered softly, voice cracking, “for saving me.”


End file.
